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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790190">Kinktober 2020</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fushicho/pseuds/Fushicho'>Fushicho</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breeding, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, Dubious Consentacles, Established Relationship, Geraskier, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Monsterfucker Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Monsterfucking, Oviposition, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:20:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,951</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26790190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fushicho/pseuds/Fushicho</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of ficlets for Kinktober 2020!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>276</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Day 1 - Double penetration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I take my prompts from <a href="https://twitter.com/brainyraccoons/status/1306689641135906832">Phil's list</a><br/>Please feel free to suggest any tag that might be missing</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s been three weeks since they arrived at Kaer Morhen for the winter. He and Geralt were the lasts, joining the other wolves and a cat. It took a few days to ease the tensions from the Path and the fact that there wasn’t one but two newcomers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Lambert and Aiden were happy to stay by themselves most of the time, Jaskier quickly understood that the white wolf was prompt to feel guilty when it came to leaving Eskel alone. Similarly, the scarred witcher seemed to orbit around them, seeking opportunities to approach but retreating as soon as they displayed the tiniest amount of affection or intimacy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Obviously, he asked Geralt why they were acting so strangely but didn’t get any answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he asked a second time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A third.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then a dozen times in less than an hour and finally his lover reluctantly agreed to tell him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They used to share everything. Food, stories, trinkets, beds, body heat and sex, even. And now that Jaskier was there neither of them knew how to act or how to broach the subject.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But why didn't we talk about this sooner? I could have told you </span>
  <em>
    <span>weeks </span>
  </em>
  <span>ago that I didn't mind sharing your affections as long as you come back to me. Especially not with someone who's been with you for longer than I've been alive."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And how was I supposed to phrase it so I wouldn’t sound like an asshole? Hey Jaskier, I’m already fucking someone, would you mind if I still did it now that we’re together?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, fuck. His wolf was on defensive now. He had to admit that he probably would need to think hard about how to present things, had he been in the same situation. And he was way more at ease with words than any of the witchers he met until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well… We have it sorted now. Mostly. Tell me, dear heart, should we pay a visit to Eskel or should I ask you to stack the fire before you join him?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier asks, rubbing his fingers together as he tried to ignore the nervousness that started to bloom in his chest. He kept his head tilted to the side, to have a better view of Geralt’s face, trying to decipher the feelings that passed on it, invisible for most but clear as day for him. Disbelief. Surprise. Hope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Told you. We share everything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melitele’s tits, the white wolf was blushing. Biting his lower lip to stifle a chuckle that had every chance to be misinterpreted, he got up and grabbed his lover’s hand to pry him off the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let’s not make him wait any longer then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was bubbling up with excitement as they crossed the corridor and clearly had the impression he was flying by the time he knocked to Eskel’s door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes? What is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How was it possible to look so fierce and yet so shy he wondered, trying not to think about how many ballads he could compose about it. The fact that the scarred witcher was half hiding behind his door probably had something to do with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It has very recently come to my attention that you and Geralt used to share </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything.</span>
  </em>
  <span>" He starts with what he hopes to be a charming smirk, but he’s quite certain his expression doesn’t matter to the rather horrified man in front of him. "So I’m here to be shared if you’d like. 'Cause I certainly wouldn’t mind having two terribly handsome men in bed with me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it disbelief, now? Yes, it was. Way better than horror but not quite what he wanted yet. Well, it certainly wasn’t a plain </span>
  <em>
    <span>no </span>
  </em>
  <span>so he had a chance of making this work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why don’t you tell him, Geralt?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn’t ask him. He… He was the one to suggest it. And, well, if… if you wanted to… I think I’d like it. Can we enter?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door was opened wider so they could walk into the room and the excitement returned to Jaskier’s vein, twice as powerful as he immediately spotted the large bed that could easily accommodate all three of them. Discarding his shoes, he went straight for it and flopped on top of the furs, beckoning the two witchers with a curl of his index.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, the poems he could write about how witchers, known like the greatest killing machine ever created, turned soft and eager to please under the slightest amount of genuine affection. Now he had one of them on each side, eagerness to please shining in their eyes, making them look like overgrown, deadly, absolutely adorable pups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be shy, dears, I'm all yours. Truly, all you needed to do was ask, I'm a man of simple pleasures."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, so you consider all your embroidered silks a simple pleasure?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, you cheeky bastard. Be a good boy and put your mouth to better use, hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier chuckled, throwing back his head and shivering when teeth he knew well grazed his throat. He could feel one of his lover’s hands against his stomach, undoing the buttons of his doublet as he went up slowly, too slowly… but that was all. And it wouldn’t do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eskel, dear, please </span>
  <em>
    <span>do something </span>
  </em>
  <span>or I fear I might combust."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It’s just… I don’t…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Want me to guide you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He breathes, reaching out to gently cup Eskel’s scarred cheek, smiling brightly as he feels him nod. So he guides them both because while Geralt knew how to make him </span>
  <em>
    <span>sing, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted to treat them the same, and a bit of guidance helped make things go smoother between the three of them because coordinating all their limbs proved to be more difficult than he first thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The best solution, once they finally were naked, had been for him to settle in the white wolf’s lap, pressing his back against him so he could face the other witcher and either kiss him or </span>
  <em>
    <span>watch them kiss</span>
  </em>
  <span> while rocking against the oil-covered fingers that seemed to consider making him come before any cock was involved a mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And well. He couldn't disappoint them, could he?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want both of you." Jaskier moans as he guesses they're now wondering who will go first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We did assume we'd both have you, you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No Geralt, it's… that's not what I mean. I want both of you. At the same time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He chuckles when he can hear them gasp and he can't help but rock his hips against Geralt, gripping Eskel's medallion to bring him closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He adds, and it must be effective because he can feel fingers withdrawing, leaving him empty and aching for more until a very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> familiar cock presses into him, making him moan and arch his back under the sensation. It felt really good but the bard knew the best was yet to come when a thick finger circled against his rim, making him shiver as it started to press ever so gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time he was ready, he was babbling almost incoherently murmuring and moaning praise after praise, telling them how wonderful they felt, how they were good to him until it all melts in an unintelligible moan when Eskel slides in him alongside Geralt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, gods. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ooooh, gods. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s very eloquent, bard."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He groans at Eskel’s chuckle, trying to catch his breath only to have it knocked out of him as soon as his witchers start to move. He loses his voice before they’re done and he’s sure he won’t be able to sit the next day. Yet he couldn’t be happier as they take him apart in the best way possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was going to be the best winter ever.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Day 2 - Oviposition</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt saves Jaskier from a lizard-like monster that decides the witcher will do a perfect receptacle for his offspring.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is about getting unwillingly fucked by a monster that will then lay eggs. Please do not read if it squicks you out, we're here to have fun &lt;3<br/>I'm using <a href="https://twitter.com/brainyraccoons/status/1306689641135906832">Phil's list</a> for the prompts<br/>Please feel free to suggest any tags that I might forget!</p><p>Many thanks to Bailey for helping me out and to Cylin for your cheering &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Don’t."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt groans from where he’s pinned to the ground when Jaskier slowly moves toward the sword he dropped a few seconds ago. He pushes slightly against the clawed paw that presses on his back but it doesn't move and a growl rolls from the creature.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It’ll only enrage it and you’ll get killed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But Geralt, you… it’s going to…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jaskier. I’ll be fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or rather, he hoped he would be. It wasn't guaranteed and he can't help but tense up when a snout presses against the back of his head, shuffling his hair. It only gets worse when a long tongue brushes his cheek, leaving a burning line behind it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I need a potion, can you make it roll toward me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright, uh, which one?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bindweed. Clear liquid, bottle smaller at the base, two parallel twines."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard searches rapidly through the pouch he's normally not allowed to approach, finding the right bottle and making it roll… except it stops against the grass </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of reach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can smell Jaskier’s distress, and he’d like to have something reassuring to tell him but the beast is pressing him harder against the ground and all he can do is groan and wince as pain diffuses through his chest. He’s starting to think he’ll get crushed before anything happens but the paw on his back lifts slightly, claws still pressing threateningly against his armour but allowing him to breathe and leaving just enough room so he could gain a few precious inches and close his fingers around the potion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher loses no time and downs it immediately, letting out a relieved sigh as the burn on his cheek fades, his body almost tingling as the toxicity spreads.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt! Your armour!" Jaskier squeals, one hand clasping against his heart in distress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Could have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the bard that had been attacked, not him. He was supposed to chase a forktail which meant that, provided some precautions, he could safely leave his friend to their camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except it wasn’t a forktail.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It has scales, a long tail but the comparison stops there. It's four-legged, do not possess wings and, well, all things considered, it's more affectionate than aggressive. If he doesn't think too hard about the claws in his armour and the acid saliva it's currently spreading below his waist, slowly melting away his leather pants. It feels uncomfortably hot on his skin, like staying too close to a fire, but he can’t feel any pain thanks to his potion. And it's a relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you… uh… want me to leave you some, uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>privacy</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Stay</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt's heart is hammering in his chest, and he hates how he can't pinpoint exactly why. He's feeling too many things at the same time, his head spinning under the mix of emotions and sensations, under all the smells he could pick up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't know how long it'll be, the potion could fade off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's only half of a lie, and if the bard sees through it he has the good graces not to mention it. He has some regrets, however, when a searing hot tongue presses against his hole, making him wince and tremble as it insists until his muscles give in and it slips inside, drawing out a growl of displeasure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you alright Geralt? Does it hurt? Can I do something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, it’s… ngh. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that's all."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t hurt, not really. Especially if he compared it to his most recent injuries. But the stretch is uncomfortable and it almost feels like the creature is tasting him, it’s inquisitive tongue rubbing against his walls… and against the spot that makes his hips jerk wantonly as he has to bite down a moan. He hears Jaskier make a comment, unable to register the words and not really caring as the tongue withdraws, leaving him cold and suddenly empty, his ass clenching down on </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes him a good second to realise that the whine he's hearing is coming from him while the beast, still pressing him to the ground, emits a growl that sounds almost… pleased? The snout he felt earlier is back, blowing hot air against his neck, and he could feel his thighs quiver as something long and hard rubs against the cleft on his ass until it catches against his hole and pushes in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pleasure rushes through Geralt, gaining in intensity as the monster slides deeper, leaving him gasping for air and wanting for more, wanting for it to </span>
  <em>
    <span>thrust </span>
  </em>
  <span>in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except, once slots to the hilt, it completely stops moving. He's choking on a new whine, high and needy, desperately trying to find some leverage so he could grind, roll his hips, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he feels it. The cock in him seems to expand against his rim, making him think about a knot until it starts to </span>
  <em>
    <span>move</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The inflated part pushes deeper, slowly but never stopping, making him writhe and moan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then the witcher feels it happen again, and he knows. It isn't a knot. It's eggs. The creature is thoroughly breeding him and somehow it makes the whole process so much more intense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows how to handle that once the beast will be done with him, so really he can't do much besides taking what he could from the whole situation, which means moaning and letting the monster have his way with him until he comes in what was left of his pants, more than once, until he feels impossibly full, until he could feel a slight bulge forming from the eggs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Until the creature withdraws and releases him, walking away as he stays on the floor, shivering and huffing, trying to recollect himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gods, Geralt. Do you need anything? Can I do something?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Forehead pressing against the ground, Geralt doesn't know if he's more grateful or ashamed to hear Jaskier so near… until he notices the spices that lace his scent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really, Jaskier?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not </span>
  <em>
    <span>deaf</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Geralt. And you're the hottest thing I've heard. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Want a turn?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He growls, mostly to stop what will be another bout of various praises about his person. But then he hears the bard's heart skip a beat, hears him suck in a breath, and finds that he hopes he'll say yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Next time, dear. We'll see if the offer's still up once you've come to your senses. Now rest for a bit, I'll clean you up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls to the side while his companion rummages through Roach's saddlebags, his eyes closing on their own when he feels a cold, damp cloth press to his cheek where the monster licked him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Careful Jaskier."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's alright. I'm being cautious, just relax."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as he flares his nostrils and takes in as much air as he can, he doesn't smell a single hint of burnt skin so he just hums and lets his mind drift, trying not to react under Jaskier's hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must fail since he can hear him chuckling, but he finds he doesn't mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't plan on taking the offer back, after all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Day 3 - Tentacles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jaskier meets a very friendly octopus</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I use <a href="https://twitter.com/brainyraccoons/status/1306689641135906832">Phil's list for my prompts</a><br/>Please don't hesitate to suggest additional tags!</p><p>All my thanks to the lovely Kaermoron for her precious beta work and her comments that always make my day!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Geraaalt?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t supposed to follow the witcher. He had been instructed to stay at their camp but honestly, he couldn’t be expected to listen and stay put. He could miss only so much material for his songs and he already waited out the last two hunts. This one was supposed to be relatively easy, which usually meant he wouldn’t get much out of it, but at least he’d get to see his friend into action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was truly eye candy, really. All of those muscles, moving with such grace… He was forever grateful at how much guts and grime could smell, as it probably saved him more than once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But right now he had other concerns than Geralt’s magnificent ass. While he was off fighting drowners, surprisingly far from the bank of the lake, something moved underwater, something big, getting closer and closer to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Get back to camp Jaskier!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah, of course he would grunt and be angry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, there’s something-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Said something was slowly raising its head out of the water, revealing it’s red, blotchy skin and big, globulous, intelligent eyes. It stopped its progression, seemingly watching the bard, before slowly moving towards him, pausing again and so on until its tentacles started to surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, uh, hello. You, uhm, you’re not here to eat me, right? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell me you’re not here to eat me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The… thing, fuck he knew what it was called but couldn't remember, only scooted closer and extended one of its limbs to pat his boot and his ankle. It seemed kind of friendly, much more than the drowners Geralt was still very busy slaying that is, and Jaskier decided that it wasn’t worth panicking over. Yes, it was strange that the animal was now groping his calf and he wasn’t completely calm about the fact that the tentacle was wrapped around him. But the... octopus, he supposed, did not tighten its grip and seemed content to just hold his leg.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, I made a friend!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher, of course, didn’t care and was currently profusely swearing about people lying their teeth off. Well, his loss. It wasn’t like he'd seen him fight drowners a thousand times before. It was much more interesting to crouch in front of the cephalopod and present his fingers to the curious tentacle it raised in inquiry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, you’re nice, aren’t you? How did you end up in that lake? I thought your kind lived in the sea. You must be lonely, poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you company for a bit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The animal got even closer, as if it understood it was being cooed over, and Jaskier was happy to just stay there and pet it as more tentacles came to rest against him, small suckers gently tugging at his skin. It was surprisingly pleasant and, being his horny self, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel -ehrm- </span>
  <em>
    <span>elsewhere</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So when the octopus started to press its tentacles against his thighs, he wasn’t about to complain. It wasn’t like he was trying to get it to touch him, no, that would be absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was only staying still while it did whatever it wanted to, so there was no harm in closing his eyes and fantasizing a bit. It became even easier as the limbs crawled higher, letting go of his calves and pushing his legs apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kneeling in the mud wasn’t so bad after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Melitele’s tits."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard groaned, head falling back, as the tip of a tentacle brushed against his hardening cock, making his fingers twitch against the limb still holding them. The cephalopod must have found that pleasant, or so he supposed because it rippled against him, pressing harder, almost like a lover would have.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All gods above, the animal seemed to focus on his dick now, writhing against it, mapping his crotch more and more frantically until one of the suckers caught against the waist of his pants. Its skin felt cold and damp against his own, and Jaskier thought of backing off because this was all becoming just a bit too real when the octopus mercilessly shoved the tentacle in his smallclothes, wrapping it around his shaft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods</span>
  </em>
  <span>, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m fine! S-Sorry! There’s, uh, mud on my pants!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"When will you listen to me?! I told you to stay put! First the villagers, now-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt certainly didn’t stop there, but Jaskier never heard what was next. He was too busy opening his pants and shoving them down before they ended up ripped as more tentacles reached for his skin, mapping his groin and even sliding towards his ass. He barely had the time to clasp a hand over his mouth before one limb started to press against his rim, making him glad he was still slick from taking care of a very persistent morning wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was nothing tender, nothing patient, in the way the octopus pushed its tentacle in him or in the way it started to thrust. He was getting used, nothing more, but he dreamed a few thousand times of being used by a very grumpy someone so, really, he had nothing to complain about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He even had a few things to sing praise about when it slid deeper, forcing him to stretch around a significantly larger part of the limb and pressing a long line of suckers against his prostate every time it moved. The relentless pace, in addition to the tentacle still wrapped around his cock, squeezing deliciously, prevented him from lasting as much as he would have liked to which was for the best considering the fact that his witcher friend wouldn’t take forever to slay his drowners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard muffled a scream as he tensed up then slouched as he came, shuddering and writhing against the cephalopod’s movements, tears of overstimulation starting to swell under his lashes when it finally came, making him arch his back one last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once done, the octopus didn’t lose any time before withdrawing and getting back into the water, not even letting him relish in the sensation of being full. Again, it probably was for the best but going from tremendously full to absolutely empty was unpleasant. Appalling, even.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jaskier? What… Were you… Doing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. He could recognize that growling even when his mind was reduced to fog.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And this… This was way worse than feeling empty.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Day 4 - Breeding kink</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Geralt is talkative, for once.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I take my prompts from <a href="https://twitter.com/brainyraccoons/status/1306689641135906832">Phil's list</a><br/>Please feel free to suggest any tags that might be missing!</p><p>Once again, I must thank the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaerMorons/pseuds/KaerMorons">kaermorons</a><br/>for being my beta &lt;3</p><p>This is a sequel to the third chapter, because those two prompts went really well with each other</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Jaskier? What… Were you… Doing?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt growls, and he doesn't know what he's feeling right now. Is it anger, because Jaskier obviously had fun while he had to fight almost unprepared because he was lied to? Is it jealousy, because the bard would rather have an animal than him? No, of course not. Well, maybe it hurts. Just a bit. But anyone's ego would be bruised in that case, so really it doesn't matter and it doesn't count. And he definitely isn’t jealous. It must be the potions. He's still high on them, eyes black and adrenaline rushing through his veins and, yes, anger does sound like it too. He doesn't want to think about what could have happened if a drowned slid past him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it has nothing to do with the fact that Jaskier was looking positively sinful, still flushed from the sex he just had, cum dripping out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Geralt, I… oh. You-your eyes. They… wow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's not sure if the human knows he can smell the sudden spike in his arousal, he's not about to tell him, which doesn't prevent him from turning around to find what has piqued his interest. Except they're alone. He can't see, can't hear, can't smell anything alive but them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You… want me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witcher murmurs incredulously, eyes snapping back to the small form on the ground. Did… did he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>whine</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You have no idea how much I want you, do you?" He shakes his head because he never thought someone could want him. Especially not Jaskier. "Melitele's tits I've wanted you since I met you! Until now you never looked interested."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Interested</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s an understatement. His breeches strain against the bulging curve of his cock, and his hands twitch with the need to </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So he crosses the few steps that separate him from his bard and relishes in the way his breath hitches, in the way the scent of his arousal suddenly intensifies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He falls to his knees, right behind him and finally, finally presses his hands against that slim waist, lets them slide to the hips he’s dreamed of grabbing too many times to count, finally resting on the muscular thighs he wants to bite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you like fucking animals?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not what you think, I swear </span>
  <em>
    <span>it </span>
  </em>
  <span>started it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I asked.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt growls, pressing his nose right under the bard’s ear, lips moving against the soft skin, and waits for his answer. It comes in the form of a gasp and a full-body shudder, at the way they’re suddenly pressed against each other. Jaskier’s muscles tense under his hands as knees part a little further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like them to have their way with you, don’t you? Like them to use you. Is that what you want? To be used?" He holds his breath for a second and decides to continue, since his companion is now squirming against him at the prospect. "To be bred, like the bitch you are?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Geralt, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span>…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's easy for him, to hear the edge of despair, to almost taste it in the air, and he can't hold himself back any longer. His hands both withdraw, one to open his breeches and shove them down just enough to get his cock out, the other to slide two fingers in Jaskier, growling when he feels how </span>
  <em>
    <span>ready</span>
  </em>
  <span> he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to fuck you." He rasps, lining himself up, one hand clenched on the bard's hip and the other wrapping around his throat to hold him in place. "I'm going to fill you and knock you up," he adds, pushing himself up until he is buried to the hilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them believes it, of course, but the human’s head falls against his shoulder while Geralt licks against his pulse, and it’s nice to pretend. Even better are the moans he draws out of the lithe body when he starts to thrust in earnest, unable to take his time to build a rhythm as he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck, Geralt, talk… talk to me again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without thinking, without even realising at first, he does talk. He tells Jaskier how he'll keep him on his cock like any slut of his kind should be kept. Tells him how he's going to put a pup in that pretty belly of his. How he'll bring him back home so he can enjoy him all winter and lend him to his brothers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard claws at the hand on his hip and the witcher releases it to wrap his fingers around the shaft he’d neglected until now, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts, even as they become erratic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll fuck you so much you won't need anyone else, and every witcher will know you're </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snarls, with a rush of possessiveness he's sure to regret later but that doesn't matter for now. It doesn't matter because Jaskier is almost howling against him as he comes and Geralt only needs a few more thrusts until he's following, biting at the base of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His human is going limp in his arms when Geralt starts to come back to his senses and for a moment he just holds him closer and licks the mark he just left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've overdone it, haven't I?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh shut up, you were absolutely perfect."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And surely if he's laughing it must be true because he can't smell any fear, any pain, just sunshine and chamomile and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jaskier</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Your brothers, uh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-I mean you don't -"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'd love to meet them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This winter promised to be fun.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Day 5 - Intercrural</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As efficient as a witcher's body can be they're still not perfect... fortunately, there are other options.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I take my prompts from <a href="https://twitter.com/brainyraccoons/status/1306689641135906832">Phil's list</a><br/>Thanks to kaermorons for her superb work as a beta!<br/>Feel free to suggest any tags that might be missing</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"I’m sorry Jaskier."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There’s no need to be, dear heart. It happens."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The bard tried to sound reassuring, but he could see it wasn't working very well. His dear friend kept apologizing and making increasingly concerning suggestions, the latest being that he could just oil him up and use him. And while he wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>completely </span>
  </em>
  <span>against the idea, he absolutely could not accept when it was proposed out of guilt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, this wouldn't do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to help me, or is it just because you feel like you owe me something? Because I'd love a bit of help, of course, but I don't want you to feel like you have to. Never, you hear me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Bit of both?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jaskier sighed heavily at the muffled answer, and tightened his arms around his witcher as they simply laid against each other. His lover’s face had been buried against the crook of his neck since it became apparent that no matter what they tried, his body would </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>cooperate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright. I can feel I'm making things worse for you so I will let it slip for now. We have a few options, and I'm letting you choose. Nonono, don't try to argue, I love them all equally. So. You can, quite literally, lend me a hand. You can blow me. You can… finger me. You can even combine any of those three if you want to. Or, last but not least, if you don't mind having a bit of clean up to do, I could fuck your thighs." He explained, carding his fingers through Geralt's hair to soothe him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The last one sounds… nice. Won't have to do much and can still have your hands on me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want to stay like this or do you prefer to turn around?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As an answer, his companion shifted in his arms and settled against him once more, parting his legs slightly as an invitation. But the bard took his time. He started by murmuring sweet nothings, by pressing soft kisses against any skin he could reach until his lover started to relax, tension seeping out of him with every breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And only then he grabbed the vial of oil they prepared earlier, taking a palmful before stroking his shaft and finally sliding between powerful thighs. It was wildly different from fucking, but it wasn’t less electrifying. Jaskier groaned all the same, letting his hands wander as he traced the witcher’s muscles with his fingertips, covering him in praises and kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He never picked up his pace, even as pleasure rose and burned through him, ceasing his compliments only when he had to muffle his moans when he came, hips stuttering then coming to a halt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so lucky</span>
  </em>
  <span> to have you. Thank you, dear, you’ve been such a sweetheart."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mmm. Don’t move yet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Anything you want. It’s my turn to indulge you."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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